COLUMN: From the mouth of babes

If you spend much time around youngsters, you will agree they say some pretty amusing things. Coming from a large family, most of us are eager to strike up conversations with children.

In June of last year, a little 4-year-old boy came to Clara’s garage sale. We figured he lived with adults because of his level of communication skills. Debbie was painting the service door to the garage white.

He said, “Back in the day, I bet that door was blue.”

Debbie responded, “Why do you say that?”

“Because if I had a door, I would paint it blue,” he replied.

I was sitting by the money table and I asked, “Hey little boy, what’s your name?”

He had a funny look on his face and told me, “I am not supposed to talk to strangers.”

I thought to myself, “He didn’t have any trouble talking with Debbie.”

His grandma told him, “You can tell her your name.”

He promptly stated, “My name is John Wayne B. What’s yours?”

“I am Phyllis,” I said. “The ladies over there (pointing) are Lois and Carol. They are my sisters.”

He asked, “Who’s painting the door?”

“Oh, that is Debbie, my niece.”

Then John Wayne asked, “Do you all live here?”

“No,” I said.

He whined around wanting various items at the sale, though his parents and grandma kept telling him “no.”

I politely invited him to pick something out of a “free” basket on my table. He was glad about that.

While his family shopped over an hour, little John Wayne kept the conversation alive with all of us.

Before leaving he proudly announced, “I am having my fifth birthday next month, and I want all of you to come! It is going to be at Aunt Mary’s home because she has a big house. You have to be careful because she has new carpet.”

He went on to say, “Bring me a present, but don’t tell me what it is. I want it to be a surprise. Be sure to wrap, it but don’t put it in a bag, I like to unwrap my presents.”

Lois asked him, “What kind of a present should we bring?”

“I want any action figure, but don’t say what it is,” he begged.

As the blonde-headed little fella was leaving, he threw up his right hand and loudly said, “Later.”

I think he has watched adults make that gesture before. Grandma told us his birthday was Nov. 30. What a handful he might be in years to come.

In 1996, I sold insurance in Scottsburg. Often, one of the agents brought her elementary-aged son Eric and daughter Laura to the office after school. They liked coming into my office because I always offered them the candy on my desk. I enjoyed their company. They were well-behaved, and I found them quite entertaining.

After a few months of Eric and Laura visiting me, Laura asked, “What do you do all day?”

I told her I visit businesses to sell insurance to their employees.

She said, “Seems like to me all you do is sit at your desk every day and talk on the phone.”

Bless her heart.

About 10 years ago, a certain chicken franchise restaurant was labeled as a much healthier choice for children than the popular hamburger joints. When my great niece Maddie and my granddaughter Maisy wanted to eat at that chicken place, they couldn’t say the name correctly. Maddie called it “Chick Away” and Maisy, “Chick Fur Lay.” They are 14 now, yet the adults still refer to it as “Chick Away and Chick Fur Lay.”

Currently, those two girls think that the coffee house from Seattle, which charges $6 for coffee, is the cool place. I don’t know about that.

The mid ‘70s ushered in the advent of zip codes. One Sunday night at church, they spoke of the importance for young children know their personal information. Things like address, zip code, phone number and parents’ names.

The first part of the night service, the children joined us in the sanctuary with their parents for the opening. During this opening is when the “information” discussion took place. I leaned over to my 4-year-old daughter, Kitte and whispered to her, “Do you know our zip code?”

Kitte had the hymnal in her lap flipping the pages as if she were looking for a song.

She replied, “Yes, I know how the zip goes. I know how to button, tie and snap, too!”

I decided to wait for a better time to school my three girls on such things.

Of course, we all have numerous stories of children we could spend hours telling. What a joy to reminisce.

Phyllis (Dow) Bex is native of Morgan County, who grew up on a farm west of Paragon. She presently lives in Greenwood.